


This Will I Do

by amyfortuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Dark, Dark Empowerment, Demon Deals, Gen, Halls of Mandos, Horror, Spiders, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-06 06:49:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12206016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Míriel makes a deal with Ungoliant, and she'll see it through, no matter the sacrifice.





	This Will I Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uumuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/gifts).



"A little spider spins a web in a place where no webs can be spun," Míriel chanted to the silvery shadow in a dark, dark corner of the darksome Halls. She ran fingers through her hair, silver too, and detached some of the strands, blowing them with a soft huff of air toward the dark corner. 

The web shivered. Great eyes peered out from behind the web's shelter, hundreds of hungry eyes, eager to feast and yet afraid. The strands of Míriel's hair were gathered in by busy feet and attached to the web itself, strengthening it. 

"What does an elf-child want with a spider?" a voice hissed from out of the darkness of that corner. "What does the little elf, the mother of fire, need?" 

Míriel's voice was as a waft of cold air in a dark night. "Vengeance." She walked on, her feet making no sound in the mists, in the darkness. 

Some arbitrary length of time -- for time is not measured in the halls of the dead -- she returned, the fingers of her left hand clutched tight around the throat of a child-spirit. "A gift," she said, offering up the child to the spider-shadow. "In life it was called Elurín, and in death it will be nīthing." Hungry eyes awoke, and limbs reached out with shadowed fingers to take the small soul in. 

"It is a good feast," the spider said in reply, pincers clacking. "Bring me another."

Míriel smiled. "Just as fine." And she held up her right hand. "In life this one was called Eluréd." 

"You have given me gifts," the spider said, weaving a silvery web about its victim. "What gift would you ask in return?"

"Three gifts I have given," she said, "and three gifts I ask in return." The spider's eyes dipped, acknowledging her. "First, I ask for knowledge. Teach me how to weave your webs of darkness, that in them I may entangle the Valar."

"I will," the spider said. "The Broideress you are called, yet never before have you woven such stuff as fine as my webbing." The spider held out a thin strand. "Take this in your hand and it will flow through you, giving you the silk you need to produce." 

Míriel held out her hand, and the spider-silk pierced her palm and entered her body, coiling around and around inside her, hollowing out her organs, ripping away her blood vessels, searing down her nerves. The pain was excruciating but she made no sound. At last the work was done, and Míriel stepped forth again.

"Second, I would ask your protection, for me and for my kin, my son and his descendants, as we go forth from this place into the world."

The spider clashed its pincers together. "It is a great thing you ask, but I will do it, when the time is ripe. What is your third request?"

Míriel sighed before she spoke, her breath stirring the silver strands of the web. "In Valinor's halls are many fair things, shining gems, shining souls who dwelt in the Light of the Trees that once you destroyed. I ask that you help me destroy them all. We shall drive the Valar from their shining thrones, hound the Maiar into the Void, rip down bright Eärendil from his sky-ship, and what he wears upon his brow shall be restored to him who made it. But you must leave Middle-earth alone, for from there we came, and to there we shall return." 

The spider hesitated before replying, and Míriel feared she had asked for too much. At last the spider spoke: "As you have spoken, so will I do. But I must have strength. I ask of you a strong soul, one that has lived in the Light, to give me what I need, and only then will I be able to fulfil the deed that you require."

"I will bring you what you ask for," Míriel said. "This will I do." 

They parted for a time. In the darkness Míriel wove her webs. With time her hair fell out, spider thread growing in its place. Her skin turned black and shiny like that of a spider, and her eyes turned to spider eyes, increasing her close-weaving vision by a hundredfold. Eventually she grew a second set of arms, and was forever weaving, weaving, her fingers never ceasing to do their work. 

At length, she returned to the spider's web, now grown great. In the grip of her hand was a strong soul, a bright soul, a soul she had once loved, who looked at her with calm grey eyes, unaware of his danger. 

"In life, this one was called Finwë Noldoran," Míriel said.

**Author's Note:**

> "Nīthing" is an old word for "outlaw" or "criminal" but what I'm using it for here is to convey that the souls consumed by the spider will be utterly destroyed.
> 
> "This will I do" is what Vairë reported Míriel's personality to be like: " _The spirit of Míriel hath dwelt with me, and I know it. It is small, but it is strong and obdurate: one of those who having said ‘this will I do’ make their words a law irrevocable unto themselves._ "


End file.
